


blonde flat white

by the_problem_with_stardust



Series: just a phase [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Barista Derek Hale, Coffee, College Student Derek Hale, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Graduate School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 15:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17963447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_problem_with_stardust/pseuds/the_problem_with_stardust
Summary: The man looked up from the register and Stiles almost tripped and faceplanted onto the extremely hipster-looking floor. No human being could possibly have eyes that pretty. Stiles had to be trapped in some weird fever dream. Maybe he’d actually gotten hit by that bus and was in a coma, dreaming up gorgeous guys in over-priced coffee shops.





	blonde flat white

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tabbytabbytabby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabbytabbytabby/gifts).



> So. About 6? 8? ish? months ago, the lovely @tabbytabbytabby bid on a <5k fic + moodboard during a Fandom Cares auction and requested: _Maybe a college AU with some pining? With a bonus of Derek and Kira being best friends._ And then I added in the meet-cute prompt. 
> 
> The original fic I wrote for this prompt is now over 20k and probably won’t be posted until my thesis is done. And @tabbytabbytabby is such a fabulous person, I didn’t want to leave her totally empty handed so here is a teaser about Derek and Stiles' first meeting from Stiles’ POV!

Thunder crashed and Stiles swore, shoving open the door to _Just a Phase_ with more force than necessary. An unfamiliar man was standing behind the counter, instead of Stiles’ usual barista.

The man looked up from the register and Stiles almost tripped and faceplanted onto the extremely hipster-looking wood floor. No human being could possibly have eyes that pretty. Stiles had to be trapped in some weird fever dream. Maybe he’d actually gotten hit by that bus and was in a coma, dreaming up gorgeous guys in over-priced coffee shops.

His phone pinged again, reminding him of his mission.

“Hey there,” he said, relieved that he didn't sound as flustered as he felt. “Could I get a large black coffee to go and a…” he trailed off, checking his phone. “A medium blonde flat white?”

Lydia and her weird drink preferences. Last week had been something that he could barely pronounce and cost almost as much as the lunch buffet at Scott’s favorite pizza place downtown. Good thing she always paid him back.

“That would be my stripper name,” the barista muttered under his breath, punching in the orders and jotting down random looking letters on one of the cups.

Stiles stared, wallet half out of his pocket. He must have imagined it, because there was no way those words had come out of that man’s mouth.

But then those gorgeous eyes were back on him and Stiles was pretty sure he could see the exact moment the barista registered that his internal dialogue had just gone external.

“Oh shit,” he said, just as Kira, Stiles' usual barista, walked out from the back room.

Stiles couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled up, only slightly tinged with hysteria, and he sagged against the counter.

Kira’s eyes flicked between the still-stuttering barista and Stiles, who had slid almost all the way to the ground. Then she read the cup and snorted.

“You said the thing.”

The barista nodded, looking shell-shocked.

She shook her head, taking both cups and setting to work. “I’d say it’s a good thing you said it to Stiles. But then again, Laura’d probably kill you if her favorite customer died laughing at an overused joke.”

Then the bell above the door jingled, signaling that Stiles was no longer the only customer in the shop. He took some deep breaths, trying to stop the hiccupping laughs.

But Lydia just shook out her umbrella and sighed. “What is going on here?” She took in Stiles sitting on the floor with his back to the counter, and then whatever was happening behind it. “How did you get so filthy?”

Stiles shrugged, looking down at his muddy jeans and sopping shoes. “It’s been a day, Lyds.”

“I told you not to call me that,” she said, heels clicking across the floor as she crossed the shop to stand beside him. “I’m assuming he hasn’t paid yet?”

Kira snorted. “No, I think Derek might’ve broken him.”

Stiles could _feel_ Lydia’s eyeroll. But she still trailed her fingertips through his damp hair when he rested his head against her denim-covered thigh.

She completed the transaction before looking down. “Are you okay to study? Or should we just head home?” The concern on her face was plain and Stiles knew he must look like a train wreck.

“I think I have some dry sweatpants,” he said, patting one his backpack straps. “But maybe we can stay here?”

“Go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring you your drinks when they’re ready,” Kira said, still out of Stiles’ line of sight.

He wondered if the cute guy had left. It would be just his luck, especially after a day like today. Not only had he been caught in this evening’s thunderstorm and doused in water and muck by a passing bus – oh no, that would hardly even tip the scales in terms of _worst day ever_ – he woke up to an email from his department threatening to cancel his admission if he couldn’t find the money to pay for this semester.

“What am I going to do with you?” Lydia asked, reaching out a hand that Stiles gratefully took.

She hauled him to his feet with a shocking lack of effort and steered him toward one of the tables.

“Give me your bag, I’ll look over everything and make sure it’s okay.”

Stiles nodded, then dug out his spare change of clothes. Thank whatever deity he hadn’t actually felt up to going to the gym that morning.

He took his time in the bathroom, stripping out of his wet clothes and letting them hit the ground with wet slaps. Not like they could get anymore disgusting. Paper towels were the best he could do for drying his hair, but it was better than having it drip into his eyes.

Sighing, Stiles stared at his reflection. He could ask his dad for help. But his dad was still paying off the medical bills from his accident last spring. And Lydia… Lydia was definitely out of the question.

They’d barely made it through the transition from not-friends to reluctant step-siblings to actual friends. It had been rough, but Stiles was happy that his dad was happy. But if his dad wasn’t letting Natalie pay off his hospital stay, then Stiles sure as hell wasn’t asking for Lydia’s help.

He reached for his phone and let his thumb hover over one of the contacts. This was going to end so, so badly.

**Author's Note:**

> Next part should be up when i've emerged from thesis-writing hell.
> 
> tumblr link:[ HERE!](https://theproblemwithstardust.tumblr.com/post/183149545233/for-the-lovely-tabbytabbytabby-who-won-a)


End file.
